


met the angel of life today...his name is Jimmy

by hey_you_with_the_face



Series: life & death &dean [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel of Death Castiel, Angel of Life Jimmy, Cemetery Caretaker Dean, Gen, and dies for a hot minute, dean is a sweetie, not sure if this is going anywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11308386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hey_you_with_the_face/pseuds/hey_you_with_the_face
Summary: Dean is happy with his job as cemetery caretaker; he likes making sure the cemetery looks nice and he takes the time to make sure the older graves are taken care of. One day he gets stuck outside during a storm and everything changes...





	met the angel of life today...his name is Jimmy

**Author's Note:**

> Huh, this is my first gen fic... this is an odd feeling

Sometime people asked him why he kept his job as the caretaker of the old cemetery. When they did, Dean would just smile and say that someone needs to take care of the place and he didn’t trust anyone else with it. What he didn’t tell them was that he worried for the wellbeing of the place.

Dean took the title of caretaker very seriously. Most people would just maintain show up, mow the grass, maybe do a bit of weeding and then go home at the end of the day. 

That wasn’t how he did things.

He did the usual things but Dean also liked to make sure the graves are well taken care. A large portion of the cemetery was very new so the majority of the headstones were maintained by the loved ones of the deceased; he only had to keep an eye on the flowers and mementos that were left, making sure that they were kept tidy and none of the town hooligans messed with them.

However there was a decent sized portion of the cemetery that held older graves, the families whose names were on the stone were long gone so Dean had decided one day that he would take over for their care. He’d actually made a maps of that portion of the cemetery since it predated the records department so that at least the names on them would be listed somewhere.

So after he took care of his usual duties, Dean would take flowers he’d picked out at the local greenhouse out to the secluded area of the cemetery and tend to the older graves. He’d plant the flowers, brush the cut grass from the headstones, and weed around them. 

As he grew more familiar with who was who, Dean would chat with them as he worked. It would probably seemed pretty damn weird if someone were to come up and hear him but he felt that it helped keep the memory of the people alive. 

It was the least he could do for them.

 

One afternoon he was out planting some new flowers when the sky started to darken.

“Wow, that storm really snuck up on me didn’t it, Eunice?” he said towards Ms. Wilde’s intricately carved headstone as he finished planting a nice bunch of pink begonias in front of her. Dean squinted up at the clouds and saw they were coming in fast. “I guess I won’t be able to get to Gerald today. You won’t be too upset will you?”

Obviously there was no response but he like to think that Gerald Scott wouldn’t mind if he held off on planting his decorative flowers until tomorrow. He stood up, his knees popping and cracking as he did, and he gathered his supplies. The wind was blowing pretty damn hard and he started to feel drops of water.

_Better hurry_ , he thought to himself as he walked quickly toward the tractor with its little cart for his tools. He’d left it under one of the large oak trees so that that it wouldn’t be stuck in the sun. _This storm looks like it’s going to be pretty nasty_. 

He was three feet from the tractor when the lightning struck. The hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up followed by a crack like a gunshot; he had a brief second to look up and shock at the enormous branch plummeting towards his face. The thought that no one would plant Gerald’s flowers flashed through his mind…

...and then it was dark.

 

Dean sat up with a gasp.

It felt like his lungs were on fire and he groaned as his entire body ached. After a wave of dizziness passed and it didn’t feel like he was going to throw up. He carefully opened his eyes and blinked at what he saw.

A man dressed in what looked like a black toga was staring at him curiously but as if this wasn’t weird enough. The guy had freaking massive black bat wings.

_Okay, I guess that wasn’t a dream_ , Dean thought to himself calmly, more calmly than he’d thought he would be in this situation, especially considering how he had hoped this day would be far far in his future. _I really am dead._

“Oh no, you are very much alive. Though you were indeed dead but only for a short while.”

Startled out of his thoughts, Dean looked up to see the guy was speaking. His handsome face held a kindly, patient expression but his eyes were what drew his attention. They were bright blue and seemed to be much older than his features hinted at.

“Um, care to run that by me again?” Dean asked, not quite sure what was going on. Well, that was a lie, he had a feeling he knew a large piece of what was going on but he didn’t really want to think about it.

The guy walked over and lowered himself so he was sitting on the ground. He held Dean’s gaze carefully, speaking slowly and soothingly. “You were killed by a falling tree branch. I was summoned to ferry your soul to the afterlife but, seeing who you were, I decided an alternate path was appropriate.”

Alrighty then.

Licking at his lips, Dean stared at whatever this person was and swallowed with difficulty. “So uh, who---who exactly are you?”

The guy’s head tilted to the side slightly. “I am Castiel, though you would most likely know me by my title; I am the Angel of Death.”

Dean could practically feel his eyes bugging out of his head. 

The fucking Grim Reaper?!?

“Not to be rude but--uh--why would the Angel of Death, you know, bring me back?” Dean asked hesitantly, fully aware that looking the gift horse in the mouth might lead to something completely horrible but needing to know nonetheless. “I’m just a cemetery caretaker; it’s not like I’m destined to cure cancer or something.”

Castiel reached out a hand a placed it on his shoulder; Dean shivered as the cold from his hand seeped through his t-shirt and into his skin. He stared intently at him. “You are far more than a simple caretaker, Dean,” he said, his voice filled with a strange sense of gravity. “You are part of an ancient role that has been taking place for thousands of years. Caring for the dead is a sacred and solemn duty in and of itself but you are a rare individual. I have watched you and I am amazed by the care that you give your charges.” He gestured back towards the older headstones. “You care for them even though by human perception, they are not yours to care for. I couldn’t just let you die, not if I could help.”

“So you brought me back to life because I give actually give a shit about people I don’t know?” Dean asked incredulously. “That doesn’t seem special enough to warrant resurrection to me; I was just doing what felt right.”

“And that is what makes you such a rare individual.”

Dean just about jumped out of his skin as another voice sounded behind him. He whirled around so fast he cricked his neck and then rubbed his eyes as he took in the person behind him.

It was like looking at Castiel but the complete opposite.

The owner of the new voice, which was slightly higher than Castiel’s, looked exactly the same as the Angel of Death; all bright blue eyes, handsome features and messy dark hair but instead of a black toga and batwings, he was clad in white and had bright white feathered wings.

“Holy shit!” Dean scrambled to the side so that he could look at both of them at the same time; his brain unable to compute what he was seeing. “There are two Angels of Death?!?”

The angel with the white wings held up a hand and smiled at him. “Actually, I’m the Angel of Life. Castiel is my twin since you know, life and death are different sides of the same coin and all that,” he explained brightly as if he hadn’t almost scared Dean to death, again. “He had to call me for assistance since, life isn’t really his area.”

Taking a deep breath, Dean decide to just embrace the crazy. Worse came to worse and he’d just end up dead again. “I’d say thanks but I don’t know your name.”

“His name is actually quite complicated for the human tongue---” Castiel chimed in this time but was interrupted by his twin.

“I prefer to go by Jimmy,” the Angel of Life piped up as he walked over and sat down next to Castiel. “It’s much easier to say and I like the sound of it.”

Okay so not only was the Angel of Death real, he had a twin who could hand out life like candy and prefered to be called Jimmy.

Yeah, that tree branch must have knocked out some of his brains when it fell and killed him.

A thought occurred to Dean as his death, holy shit his death, crossed his mind.

“So will there be any, you know, side effects?” he asked hesitantly, looking at each of them. “I’m not like, a zombie or anything because if I am, I’d rather you just kill me.”

Both the angels shook their heads so vehemently that their wings shook too. “Oh no, you are completely fine,” Jimmy answered, gesturing towards his body. “If it makes you feel better, think of it as a near death experience instead of actual death. No nasty side effects, no strings. We’d just like you to carry on as you have been.” 

Dean studied them, not quite believing that resurrection came so cheap. “That’s it? Just keep on keeping on?”

His stomach fell as they looked down at their bare feet almost sheepishly, probably as they tried to come up with a way to break the bad news but his surprise, when they looked back up at him, they were blushing.

“Well, we wouldn’t mind having permission to come and visit you,” Castiel said before quickly adding at Dean’s look of horror, “Just for conversation of course. You are a very interesting human and we would like to just talk with you.”

“Yeah, you’re the first person to see us in several hundred years who didn’t run screaming like a lunatic when you saw us,” Jimmy continued with a smile. “It’s nice to sit and talk to someone who I haven’t known for millennia.”

It didn’t seem like a bad deal, getting to come back from the dead in exchange for a little conversation.

Dean shrugged and held out his hand. “It’s a deal.”

Jimmy took his hand, his skin was blazing hot in contrast to his twins, as he beamed at him. “Deal!”

They both stood up, brushing grass from their robes; twin grins on their faces. They started to walk away; Castiel turned and said softly over his shoulder. “Until next time, Dean.”

And then they disappeared.

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this yesterday and decided to write it down. Maybe I'll add to it but I'm not sure.


End file.
